Trapped
by wanderingsmith
Summary: B/B - ep insertion for 1x15, before the rescue


**Trapped**

Author: wanderingsmith  
March 2006   
Summary: ep insertion for 1x15, before the rescue  
Warning: BB angle, spoilers 1x15  
Rating: R for implied violence   
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.

AN: I just have a hard time accepting Brennan going from about her usual cool collected self when she fights Kenton, to suddenly being red-eyes, tear-streaked panicked when they next show her. Yes, I know, her life was now good and forfeit... but she spent 3 days that way in el salvadore... and she's managed to get loose from him once... course she might have gotten out of those 3 days an emotional wreck and now be having flashback... anyway, I had an alternative 'reason' for her suddenly being scared  
_AN2: I started trying to make it a clean insert into the ep, but I need her not to be able to speak... so, the sequence is a little off. and once I made that concession, I was less demanding toward myself to keep his dialogue insertable to what he does say in the ep, after this insert and before booth shoots him._

She'd tried to play quiet to distract him before, but now there was no reason to hide her fury, her play to get loose had failed. Though the gag didn't let her yell, she twisted in his grip, fighting his attempts to tie her up, trying to use her bodyweight to throw him off.

"It's too bad you had to go and poke your nose into this. I like Booth, he's a good man. And from the looks of him, this is going to destroy him. It'd be bad enough for you to die, but after he failed to protect you.." Kenton shook his head with mock sorrow, "he'll never let himself off that hook."

His ironic look as he wrestled her now restrained wrists through a meat hook hanging from the ceiling raised her fury at his words even more. "'Course he may well make the mistake of going after revenge instead of being a good boy and turning into a drunk." his look turned thoughtful.

Temperance felt a thread of real fear creep in, tensing muscles already pushed to their limits. Death was something she analyzed; not feared. Dying was something she'd faced down before. But Booth's protectiveness and the way he'd reacted to the whole David situation..

"And he can be damned good at ferreting out secrets. Come to think of it... no, he's not going to let this go. Damn I wish that bomb had gotten you. That would have stumped him long enough to just break him."

His implied ill wishes for Booth bounced oddly off her waking nightmares. She'd wished it had taken her. She hadn't thought that it would have any effect except to keep him safe. not letting you out of my sight

"But this.. He's far too likely to figure it out. After all, he's not going to care about his career with you dead."

you're definitely more valuable alive

She could see the resolve settle on the bastard's face, another face's worry suddenly making her sick with terror; her eyes widening, head shaking in unthinking denial. 'Oh god, Booth. No..'

"At least he won't be hard to pick off, he'll be careening off looking for your killer, it'll never occur to him to protect himself."

You stick with her

She knew she was panicking, hated the satisfaction it had to be giving the bastard to see her struggle. But she had to get loose, neutralize him before he went after Booth. 'Please, no.' Kill him. Kill him.

And the horror she felt at the images he was throwing at her. Why hadn't she listened when he begged her to be careful! You keep her close She hadn't had anyone to really care if anything happened to her in a long time. Not since her brother left. The sudden weight of forsaken responsibility...

"Maybe I should just get it over with. Call him at the hospital"

'No!' struggling wasn't getting her any looser and the tears were scalding her cheeks.

"Tell him we got separated and I found you.. umm, better have you already dead. He seems to trust you to get through anything. Telling him you're hurt won't make him lose it."

She could see it. Couldn't hold his pain at bay, couldn't ignore it. Something like the pain he showed when they investigated children, when he spoke of his son, the fear that had ridden his eyes since she'd been shot at. Could see him dragging himself out of the hospital, walking into a trap, his need to protect in atonement for his sins blinding him to the danger.

Could see him breaking, just as she was at the thought of his death.

And she was trapped, bait. Unable to help anyone, from the victims to her friend. He was going to die.

Her panic took over, thinking overridden by animal instinct.


End file.
